[open] open 24 hours

[metafictions]

Who ⬤ Kamui and you
What ⬤ The extremely cursed 7/11 night shift
When ⬤ throughout May
Where ⬤ that one Sutoku/Shuten 7/11
Content Warnings ⬤ n/a for now, will update
Notes ⬤ please see Kamui's permissions to opt into having him sense your character's criminal power!

A. convenience store;

[It's 2 am, or thereabouts, and you are on a street where Shuten and Sutoku territory just barely overlap-- so it's a bit of a dodgier visit tonight. However you managed, you've finally bypassed the oni punks squatting outside the automatic doors and made your way into the waiting fluorescent arms of the 7/11, only to find...]

Welcome.

[this guy, dispassionately welcoming you to the store. Like, has he even blinked? It's like they've seated a cryptid behind the counter in a silly uniform. His lack of enthusiasm, his unbroken stare, and the strange presence his silver left eye seems to radiate all combined make this late night convenience store visit feel especially unnerving.

Sometimes, he pauses to stock the shelves, but it always sort of feels like he's watching you. Not that he's a rude cashier, or treating you like you're going to shoplift: he'll ring you up just fine. It's just his terrible vibes. Sorry.]

B. toilet dungeon;

[There's also a public restroom in this 7/11... if you can find it!]

Oh, welcome back. [says Kamui breezily, as his customer emerges from the 7/11 back door for the second-- or third?-- time.] Did you find the WC yet? I'm sorry for the inconvenience, it was cursed last week, so the hallway has gotten longer. You need to follow the directions exactly or you'll just be sent back here right away.

[In one long, breathless sentence, Kamui repeats the directions:]

Go through the door in the back, take a right, go through the fourth door, turn through the first hallway on the left, then keep going straight until you take a right at the intersection, go through the second door and you'll get to a staircase, so go all the way down and through the emergency exit on the right, take the stairs all the way up to the top, and you'll hit a T-shaped hallway, and you'll find the WC just past that.

[He blinks, head canting ever so slightly to the side.]

Please take your time.

C. hani-uhh???;

[There's a haniwa figure that has cropped up right next to the magazine aisle. Fortunately, this is one of Kamui's earlier shifts, so he's not the only employee around and won't be abandoning the register for this-- but they've still got to figure out what to do with this distinctly-cursed looking little guy before one of their oni regulars kicks it over, right?]

Erm...

[Except that, especially with his ability reactivated, it really, really feels like a bad idea to touch the clay figurine. And yet, he definitely can't just leave it there, can he?

Kamui's brows knit together with concern as he stands over it, armed with one of the tongs for hot food. He clicks them together, uncertain, before he crouches down to get a better look at it. He might be poking it with the tongs. Give it a few moments-- he's making up his mind.]

D. wildcard

[here for a vending machine substory task (or another substory)? just wanna generally harass your friendly neighborhood 7/11 cryptid? go wild my dude]

Comments

[metafictions]

[three, two, one.

When the door breaks, its hinges splintering and pulling apart with a whining, metallic screech, it seems like nothing's behind it for a precious second. Nothing but the end of a dark hallway, obscure and pitch black in the low light.

And then the blackness advances, a solid undulating mass. There are no shadows on the shape, no reflections; it's as if what stretches out towards the two of them is nothingness itself. Kamui fires his weapon, piercing that darkness directly, but as the blades connect the shape separates into four, eight, sixteen, splitting and splitting then pulling out and stretching thinner and thinner. A number of them shoot straight out towards Kamui: he recalls his blade and ducks away behind a counter, but he's too slow to dodge a few hair-thin tendrils. They wrap around his left hand, tugging; sharp like piano wire, they dig into his skin. Kamui grits his teeth and pulls against them, drawing blood, but at least the strings have been broken.]

Give it a few more seconds!

[Though he's drawn most of the presence's attention, a thin shadow creeps Emily's way, pooling at her feet.]

Emily, step back!

[medicative]

[she leaps back, terrified, and she doesn't know what to do, the panic rising in her throat. this is too much like last time to feel safe, and her body shakes -

her head drops forward, and then straightens up. Kamui will know the look in those eyes, recognize the way the body moves, and how they utilize their wings to be faster, tuck up their legs and hover to return to his side, a strong pair of wingbeats like a sweep of a fan to throw some of the tendrils back. there's precious little to be a real weapon here, but they snatch the back of his collar and pull him their direction. half tug, half drag - but the message is clear. we do not leave someone behind.]

Uehara. Don't suppose you were ever a cursebreaker in those points of yours?

[metafictions]

[He's never seen the switch occur in real time. Until now, Kamui's only run into Hibiki when they were already around-- his adrenaline is pumping, prepared to sweep Emily out of there if she's somehow fainted. But the mannerisms are familiar; movements different now, bolder, as he suddenly jerks backward in the daitengu's grip.]

Hibiki! [he blurts, now in relative safety; but the shadows are still encroaching upon them no matter how well they've dispelled them.]

Sorry, never. [He thinks of Natori, purifying this area only a week ago: little use that had been with a curse this pwoerful.] Do you have any ideas?

[medicative]

Right now? Run.

[if Kamui won't keep up, they'll keep half carrying him away. down that hallway, up over that shadow thread, and things keeping moving.

distant and growing louder as they're chased, chanting that flows like a murmuring river, voices that aren't from Kamui's dreams - no, there's something colder, stronger. onward and onward, lest they be caught and trapped.]

[metafictions]

[It's awkward, following their lead. As the two of them flee, his feet only sometimes touch the ground as he runs, occasionally skipping over it as Hibiki half-flies him along on their escape. But however far they run through the hallway, the maze continues to twist and turn. Even if they'd followed the directions, Kamui knows they'd have been turned around by whatever presence was here.

And whatever the source of these voices is, it chills him to the bone. Kamui casts a glance back at Hibiki, apprehensive--]

We can't run forever. I feel it drawing nearer.